


wolves

by thetalkingcrocus



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Gen, Gender-Neutral Runner Five, Multi, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 17:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14502072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetalkingcrocus/pseuds/thetalkingcrocus
Summary: “Sometimes it is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of them try to dominate my spirit."The boy looked intently into his Grandfather’s eyes and asked,"Which one wins, Grandfather ?"The Grandfather smiled and quietly said, "The one I feed."  - "Grandfather Tells"





	wolves

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr on July 1 2015. Included in the ZR community roundup July 2015. Spoilers up through and including S4M14.

> _“Sometimes it is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of them try to dominate my spirit."_
> 
> _The boy looked intently into his Grandfather’s eyes and asked,_
> 
> _"Which one wins, Grandfather ?"_
> 
> _The Grandfather smiled and quietly said, "The one I feed."_

-“Grandfather Tells”

 

     You carry their ID cards together in an old wallet, slotted neatly, one next to the other, separated by a thin pane of leather, and it takes you a while to realize that’s how they are in your head, too, filed next to one another, memories of entirely different kinds only similar in their intensity.

     The first time Moonchild speaks to you after her death, you think of Sara. It’s overwhelming, sharp grief like a trap snapping shut, but Moonchild’s voice is too powerful and before you can so much as imagine Eight’s face, you’ve been pulled under.

     You miss Sara’s voice and you miss Sara’s voice and you miss Sara’s voice- at least that sort of crazy hadn’t put you in danger, at least that sort of crazy you trusted. You loved her, is the thing, and you never loved Moonchild, or at least- you don’t think you did. Not properly, not of your own accord. Nevertheless, you haven’t heard Sara in months and Moonchild is back again and again, speaking like she knows you, speaking like she is you, speaking like she’s real.

     You pull each card out- different purposes, same basic design, opposite roles in your life. You shove Moonchild’s ID hastily back into its pocket, face-down. Sara’s, you hold, out, squinting to read the details you already know by heart in the starlight. Sara’s, you fall asleep holding, and when you wake up, her side of your quarters is still empty. You lace up your shoes and feel empty, too.

     It takes ages and ages for you to manage it, and really, it’s luck. Luck and genuine terror, the combination that’s gotten you out of many a post-apocalypse bind. You hear the birdsong, and you hear Moonchild’s smooth voice, and you stumble in your running and you call out, loud as you can.

     “SARA!”

     The effect is immediate but not all-consuming, and you purposefully run away from the assigned companions you’re with on today’s run. You know this can (will) get ugly, and it’s not worth the risk. You know Sam’s shouting frantically through your headset but you can’t make out the words because your mind is so full of sensations, all of them different.

     Immediately, when you called for her, the state of your mind changed. When Moonchild- whether she’s mental construct or memory or soul or you- when Moonchild talks to you, it’s languid. Calm, even when you shouldn’t be, even when you’re in terrible danger. The moment after you called Sara’s name (and you don’t know, not really, if it was out loud or in your head), everything shifted into hyperfocus. You feel- you feel alive. You feel like you’ve got death at your heels, and you speed up, and without warning, you hear a laugh. Runner 8’s laugh, that breathless, joyful laugh that means survival, and you toss your head back and laugh in return.

     “Oh, that’s a setback,” Moonchild drawls, “Nothing we can’t control though, Five. We’re unstoppable, you and- hey!”

      “You don’t need her to be unstoppable. Fight it.” Sara says, panted, as though she’s speaking right in your ear.

     Another hard wave of the Sara-flavored focus, and you swear you can smell her- all iron-sharp and ruthless- and then a whiff of flowers and patchouli.

     “You need my information, Runner Five. You need me. What would you be without me? You don’t even know who you are without me anymore, do you?”

     “You’ve always known who you really are, Five. You’re almost there, keep going.”

     You look up, scan the territory ahead for zoms, You have a feeling in your gut that you know where you’re headed. You have a feeling there’s a Y-shaped path soon. Perhaps in more ways than one.

     “We’re not so different, you and I. I’m talking to you, Five- but also, to her.” Moonchild’s voice ices over, sugarcoated and yet as sharp as ever, “Your Sara has done some things for the greater good before too, hasn’t she? What was that time, with that silly runner of yours- Owen?”

      A shudder runs down your spine- you don’t know how Moonchild got ahold of it, but you do have that memory- Owen tied to the tracks, you sprinting ahead to untie him, and Sara, Sara letting the train go on.

     “At least,” Sara says, her tone dangerous and you remember her snarl and your heart lurches in your chest, “I can admit to it. At least I know I’m ruthless.”

     “You believed you did it all for the right reasons,” Moonchild says, quietly, tiredly, as though something in this is wearing her out, “but so did I.”

     “Five,” she calls to you. Your Sara. Your Runner 8. Your friend. “Five, which one of us did you call to help you?”

     Moonchild makes a noise, a humming, hippie-sort of noise and it takes you a moment to realize she’s trying to mimic the tones she used. Your heart hardens and you decide, right then. You can feel Sara’s consciousness, or her memory, or her soul, right alongside yours, and you know she can feel your choice. You’d trust her with your life, with your weapon, with the inside of your head.

     You love her all the more because she asks anyways. “Five, do you trust me?”

     You do. Completely.

     What happens next is like nothing you’ve ever imagined. You and Sara are together, in tandem, you swear you can hear her footsteps next to yours but you’re also seeing her memories, you’re smelling banana pancakes, you’re feeling her son’s hair ruffle under your fingers, you’re seeing your smile through her eyes. It’s a rush, like a near-escape from death only better, and when it’s over, you slow, and you feel that Moonchild is gone.

     So is Runner 8.

      Looking up, you realize you’re at the fork in the road, and a quick shoulder check shows you that a few shamblers have noticed you. You look up, towards the paths that lead towards the forest or towards the sea.

     You take a deep breath, switch on your headset (when had you switched it off?), and take off running towards the salt water where you once spread the ashes of someone you love. You run towards the open skies. Towards freedom.

     Moonchild’s base is behind you now.

     You’re not looking back.


End file.
